


Please Come Get Me

by killua (david_strider)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dream Bubbles, M/M, Pale Romance | Moirallegiance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-29
Updated: 2015-04-29
Packaged: 2018-03-26 09:53:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3846502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/david_strider/pseuds/killua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“… I don’t want to be alone anymore.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Please Come Get Me

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is the first fic I've uploaded on here so I'm hoping to make it count. This is a request I did a long time ago for the prompt "Please Come Get Me" so I decided to make a pale Kankri/Karkat drabble out of it. 
> 
> I hope you guys like it!

Since the game began, sleep was not a friend to the young enervated troll who rarely rested. Typically, Karkat Vantas stayed awake until the point of passing out– nerves keeping him fully alert at all times. His misery kept him utterly exhausted, while his apprehensive nature caused his mind to wander into the darkest of places. Fighting against sleep, the troll gripped his horns aggressively– praying that the pain would keep him from dosing. 

His fighting proved useless to the boughs of sleep that succumbed to him– because within moments he was out like a light. Karkat wasn’t quite sure why he was exactly _surprised_ , after all; he’d been awake for roughly three days in a row. His dreams were typical at first– childhood memories of he and Terezi playing with sticks, putting up with Gamzee’s foolishness, and things of the like. However, he began drifting soon– traveling into different dreams. The divergent always frightened him, because he was never quite sure where he was going to go as a result. 

Karkat awoke in a vast area, surrounded in complete white. In fact, there was no beginning and no end. The region wasn’t particularly bland, however– the whiteness of the surroundings held a chrome appearance. There was no items in the room aside a long staircase– concealed in a plush red carpet. 

“Hello?” The troll called, gripping the edges of his sleeves. He was curious as to where he was– recognizing that there was some sort of familiarity to the plain room. “Is anyone here?" 

At the top of the stairs, a figure stood– with high, supercilious manner and arms crossed. His nose was stuck up snobbishly, and his stature was amazingly straight. It was as if he had a ruler stuck between his shoulder blades. At first, Karkat didn’t recognize the ridiculous appearance of the silhouette– but it suddenly struck him. With grotesque amusement, Karkat rolled his eyes. Of _all_ dreams to intrude on, he got stuck _here._

"I have not seen you in quite a while, Karkat. Are my lessons _really_ that boring to you?” Kankri asked with condescending tone– the prude. Karkat was about to reply but of course, Kankri couldn’t just ask one question. “I am quite surprised. Of course, I never believed that I could change your manner completely, however, I expected to see _some_ improvement. In fact, I am currently seeing less improvement and more slobbish behavior than I ever imagined. Do you want to embarrass me, Karkat? Was that your goal? Because you are _certainly_ doing that right _now_ , and–" 

Karkat eventually stopped listening to the abrasive voice of his elder and _pretended_ to listen. That was honestly the only way to get him to shut up. Despite Kankri’s haughtiness, his intelligence and historical knowledge was convenient.   Take the verbal slander, and wait it out until he gives you some relatively useful information. _That_ was how you dealt with him. 

"Yeah. I totally get you.” Karkat replied caustically, biting his nails as he spoke. This was honestly wearing his patience thin. 

Kankri narrowed his eyes briefly. “Very well.” He finally walked down the stairs– facing the younger Vantas. Karkat never realized how tall the elder was in comparison. He bent down, getting uncomfortably close to Karkat’s face, before stating: “You’ve been depressed.” He leaned up, recrossing his arms and closing his eyes with some sense of superiority. “Self-care is important for any good leader, Karkat." 

"You think I don’t know that, shit face?” Karkat sneered. Kankri had hit a nerve, and he knew it, too. 

“ _Triggered._ Please watch your language, Karkat." 

_What a moralist,_ Karkat thought to himself before shrugging slightly. "Sorry.” He scoffed. For some reason, he never particularly enjoyed Kankri’s disapproval. 

“So,” Kankri began, “Are you going to talk? Or do I have to, as always, do the talking in our session?” Karkat felt like he was seeing some sort of therapist, or as Rose explained, ‘human psychiatrist.’ It was downright _annoying_. 

“… I don’t want to be alone anymore.” Karkat remarked earnestly. He’d never really told anyone that. 

For once, Kankri dropped his superior demeanor and looked at him with genuine remorse. “The Vantas’ have always been better off alone, it seems.” He claimed, reflecting on his own life that once had so much meaning. 

Having been silenced for moment, Karkat finally asked: “… How long have you been alone?” He’d never really considered that Kankri had been companionless. 

“Time does not exist here, Karkat. Have you not gathered that yet?” Kankri’s curtness returned briefly, but then he sighed. “Long enough to lose track of any time known to your respected life forms." 

For once, Karkat didn’t really want to wake up. Kankri was annoying, but he understood. He looked up– seeing the whiteness of his surroundings corroding. ” _Please_ ,“ He begged, reaching out to him and clinging to the stiff figure. "Please don’t leave me alone." 

"I am sorry.” Kankri’s words drifted off in a dream-like state and when Karkat looked up– he was surrounded by blackness. In a fit of panic, he woke up– resting on his human bed back on the solemn meteor. 

“ _Please come get me_ ,” He sobbed into his hands, begging for his elder to answer him– contact him in some way. “I’m sorry–” He whispered, listening out only to hear the responsiveness of his own despondency. 


End file.
